14th February 1999, Valentine's Day
by asukann
Summary: A typical "What if?" story with a different ending. Lucy Knight did not get stabbed. Lucy Knight survives. Someone else takes her place unwittingly and changes the story.
1. 14th February 1999, Valentine's Day

Carter closed the door where Abby sat with her frail patient. He sighed as he walked to the admit area to get more patients. The life of a doctor never ends…

He paused when a thought crossed his mind. He wondered if his med student was done with her one patient. He suddenly felt guilty that he had been so short with her and decided to check up on her. He made his way to curtain three, where he saw her last with the patient. He winced at the glare and winced again at the spiteful words thrown his way. "Checking up on me to see how fast I can do the leg lac, Carter?"

Carter bit his lip, watching Lucy pull the necessary tools to carry out the suturing closer to her, as he thought. He sighed again and took off his lab coat and placed it on the empty bed beside him. "Alright, I'll do it – just for tonight."

Lucy paused from where she sat beside the patient. Her eyes looked at him suspiciously as she wondered about his words. At her silence, he impatiently rolled up his sleeves and shifted her away from the tray holding onto the suture tools. "Go on, then. I'll do the leg lac while you take a break."

Lucy stared at her teacher in disbelief. "What; so you think finishing the leg lac for me will make me forgive you for today's impatience?"

Carter sighed for the umpteenth time that day and turned to his fuming student. "I know I haven't been the best teacher so far today—"

"Not just today, Carter."

"And I just wanted to apologize for it by finishing this up for you. Besides, I know you haven't had your break yet, and as your teacher, I cannot rest until you do," Carter tried to reason. At the younger doctor's sceptical look, Carter continued, "Look, if you feel that I am trying to take away your responsibility over the patient, I'm not, okay? I heard that psych hasn't been responding to your calls and, if it makes you feel better, you can use you 'break' to find out what happened up there. Think of what I'm doing as just babysitting."

Lucy deflated at the reasonable words. It was true that she needed someone to watch her patient so she could check up on psych. Malik had not been any help – not with the party happening any time soon. As though hearing her thoughts, the booming bass of an unfamiliar music began to throb through the room. She grabbed her patient's chart and hesitated to leave her teacher alone with a potentially psychotic patient. Carter rolled his eyes. "Go, Lucy, before either of us misses the party."

Lucy grinned at her teacher. "Thanks, Dr Carter."

Carter shook his head at the speed his student vanished out the room, letting in the full blast of music in for a short while. His attention turned to the patient, though, when the young man twitched at the noise. "Whoa, relax, man. It's just music."

Sobriki, for that was the patient's name, twitched again as he watched the doctor pull the tray of metallic tools closer to them. "You're going to do it then, aren't you?"

Carter was barely listening as he reached for the syringe to inject the numbing drug before the suturing. "Don't worry, Mr Sobriki. It'll be over in a moment. You'll barely feel the pain."

"…that's why you had the party. You wanted to celebrate the harvesting of my organs."

Carter started. He had only heard the one word, 'organs', and could just hear the endless muttering under the patient's breath. He replaced the syringe and pushed the tray away from him to lean forward in concern. "Mr Sobriki?"

He was stunned when the younger man jerked towards him. He choked as his breath rushed out abruptly and wondered if he had been punched. The second time it happened, he could feel the cold from the metal as it slid out his abdomen. Wide eyed, Carter pushed away from the knife-wielding patient. He stumbled, grabbing at his bloody front, and ran only on adrenaline as he attempted to make his way to the door. "Help—"

His words cut off when the knife darted forward again into his chest. He fell to his knees, staring up at his attackers, pale face. "Why…"

The last that he saw or heard for a while were the steel glint of the knife flashing down and the patient's terrified words.

"You were going to take my organs."

Luka looked up with a weary grin as he spied Abby glancing around her in wonder. "Is it always this noisy in the ER?"

He offered her a half-hearted shrug and sipped at the non-alcoholic juice in his hand. "It's Valentine's Day, there are no patients waiting, and the cake is blue."

Beside him, Chuny and Lydia glared at the slouching doctor. Chuny grabbed said blue cake from him before he could sink his fork into it and passed it instead to Abby. "Here you go, Abby. It's better to give to those who are deserving of it, after all."

Luka seemed dismayed at having his cake yanked away so suddenly and Abby chuckled. She frowned slightly as Malik turned up the music. She pulled off her scarf and coat, leaning over the counter to ask, "Don't the patients mind?"

The nurses behind the admit area turned a distracted ear to her. "What?"

"The music – don't the patients mind?"

Another chorus of "What?" answered her instead. Abby chuckled, shaking her head. She grabbed her cake, turning to the locker area to deposit her coat when she remembered her best friend. She hadn't seen him since they spoke just before her patient's death – she wanted to break the news to him. Catching Luka's eye, she asked him where the man was. Luka scrunched up his brows in thought as he looked at the board. "He should still be with his patient. I saw Lucy go up – to Psych, I think."

He was about to dismiss the conversation back to watching the staff attempt to dance but paused at Abby's pointed look. "What?"

"You're the attending, Luka. You can't party while one of your doctors overworks himself."

Luka shrugged and purposefully turned away from her. Abby quickly reached over to smack him smartly on his shoulder. At his exaggerated cry of pain and the following glare, she pouted in return. "Please? For me? I need to speak with him about a patient but have no time; what with the _blue cake_ and all…"

Luka's glare turned almost poisonous but quailed when the nurses backed Abby up with their own glares turned his way. It seemed they had yet to forgive him for the cake remark. He sighed and got up wearily. "Fine, I'll go find our young Dr Carter… Where is his patient?"

Abby shot him a triumphant look. Haleh looked satisfied and pointed to the curtain area behind him. "He should be in curtain three, _Attending_ Dr Kovac."

Luka pouted at the snickers that followed. "You owe me, Abby."

Abby's bright laugh was swallowed by the bass of the next song and slipped away as he stepped into the quieter parts of the ER. He stalked through the place, looking around to see if there were any patients that needed his help along the way. He _was_ an attending, after all. He sighed as he stood before the closed door into curtain three. He had never really got along well with the younger doctor – though that was probably due to the fact that neither of them had bothered to get to know each other past being colleagues – and wasn't really sure what to say to the other. He rubbed his eyes as he steeled his nerves and pushed the door open—

He froze. Something felt off about the room and it was putting him on high alert. The natural instinct to flee that was screaming at him reminded him uncomfortably of his time back in his home country when the civil war took his family away. It couldn't be possible though. He was in a County Hospital and far away from any danger – right? He stepped in further into the room to look about him in suspicion. The lights were switched off – which wasn't really that strange if a patient had to sleep – and there was no patient to be seen on the beds – which wasn't rare either since patients need to visit the washroom. What made him apprehensive was the smell of blood. In a hospital, especially in an ER, it wasn't uncommon either but now the smell seemed to drench the air. It was as though—

Luka heard the slight shift of clothes and turned on instinct to grab at the hands coming towards him. He stared wide-eyed at the young man with the scruffy beard dressed still in his hospital gown. The young man pushed harder against him. It was only then did Luka feel the cold steel pressing into him. He looked down to see the long kitchen knife buried in him. He idly wondered if it was the knife the nurses were looking for to cut their blue cake. He choked a little as the patient twisted the knife cruelly inside him before yanking it out.

"I will not let anyone take my organs from me!" the young man whispered in terror. Luka didn't have a chance to answer as the pain finally made itself known in the form of fire running through his body. He clutched at the bleeding wound and stumbled back in an attempt to stay upright to try and get help. He barely noticed the patient fleeing from the room. He fell to the floor heavily, still attempting to push himself up before giving up. He turned his head to the cool floor and stared wide-eyed at the sight across from him.

"Carter…"

The younger doctor was also on the floor, his eyes dilated and face pale from the blood spread around his body. Luka reached out to his colleague, trying to give him support but had to watch in despair as Carter gave a ragged gasp of pain before falling unconscious. Luka could see that the younger man was seriously injured with an obvious stab wound to his neck. He shuddered to think of the other wounds that were causing that much blood loss, however. He may be a doctor but it was simply different to lie bleeding to death across from someone he knew. Luka pushed himself up again, determined to at least try for a call but his voice was a feeble whisper compared to the loud bass still washing dimly into the room. The pain suddenly escalated as his muscle pulled—

And he knew no more.

"…ka…"

Why was he feeling so heavy?

"…Come…Lu…"

And what were those murmurs doing, trying to worsen his headache?

"…Can you…"

He must have drunk himself into this unfortunate situation. He was sure of it.

"…hear me…"

After all, why else would he have this horrible headache?

"…Luka…"

The blue cake must have really packed a punch—

Luka jerked, as though falling off his bed all of a sudden, and his eyes snapped open. The first thing he registered was Dr Chen's concerned face looking down at him.

"Wh- What…?"

Luka was confused. Why was his voice so rough? If he had been caught drinking by the younger doctors—

Luka groaned. He could never live with the taunts from them. Maybe he should just ask for a transfer or even send in his resignation letter…

"…been stabbed. Dr Kovac – Luka – can you hear me?"

Luka blinked as Chen's words finally sank in. He groaned properly as a wave of pain, dulled as it was by the painkillers, reminded him of what really happened. "Oh lord, my stomach…!"

The younger doctor was saying something but it was drowned by the noise of the machinery around him. He blinked again as he was turned – and saw Carter's pale, bloodied form. Even as he was rolled back onto the gurney, his head remained turned to watch Benton and the Chief frantically keeping Carter alive. The younger man didn't look alive, though. In fact, he looked like a fresh corpse that had only just been pronounced—

"…lac."

Luka turned his attention back to the medical personnel currently surrounding him. He met Abby's eyes to see the flicker of uncertainty. Something was definitely wrong. "What…? What is it?"

The sharp sensation of searing pain ripped through his middle suddenly and made him cry out involuntarily. His body arched, as much as it could in its state. It felt as though something was attempting to saw him in half. He remembered seeing Mark and Elizabeth; remembered Abby holding his cold, bloody hand; remembered being under a bright, white light; remembered Elizabeth telling him that it was going to be fine—

Hours later – much later than was expected – Robert, head surgeon of the Chicago County Hospital, was washing his hands calmly at the sink. His hands were neither shaking nor trembling, even after having another doctor's blood – another doctor who worked at the same hospital as he did; who was a literal home-grown doctor of Chicago County Hospital – all over his hands; even after placing said hands into that same doctor's chest just to pump his failing heart—

Robert kicked the sink and began to swear violently. He never, _ever_ wanted to go through such an ordeal again. It played too much with his emotions, made them wonky and out of his control. It didn't feel very good. Minutes passed where none dared enter the washing area as he continued his rampage before he stopped, panting heavily and thinking of the young doctor who was currently unconscious and _not dead_ in the post-operation ICU. Now, if the boy would survive the night, it would all end happy.

Robert swore and kicked the sink again. Damn, he was starting to get sentimental.

Benton sat beside the bed, staring silently at Carter. The other man wasn't small – in fact, he was quite tall; and lanky – but here, surrounded by the numerous machines beeping and whooshing in their effort to keep him alive, he looked _tiny_. To say he was tired was an understatement. He ran a large hand over his face and sighed. His former student should probably be awake soon. The slight twitch was enough for Benton to leap up as though he had not just been contemplating sleep in a hard, plastic chair. "John?"

Soft brown eyes peered sleepily up at him and Benton couldn't help but smile. As pale lips opened silently, Benton pressed a firmly but gently on the tube supplying air into the artificial hole created in Carter's throat. "You can't talk. You have a direct trach. I'll take the tube off but you can only whisper and it has to be for only a few seconds, okay?"

Carter only blinked but somehow, Benton knew that he had given a short nod. Quickly, with the confident expertise that could only come from practice, Benton unplugged the tube. There was an audible sigh, then, "You…smiled…"

Benton was dumbfounded. Chuckling, he placed a firm hand on Carter's shoulder. "You're _welcome_."

Carter replied with a tired glare. Benton plugged him up again and this time, pressed a warm hand on the younger man's cool forehead. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake again."

Seemingly satisfied, Carter's eyes fluttered close. Benton settled into the plastic chair, suddenly not minding that it was small, hard _and_ cold.


	2. Another Valentine's Day?

It was cold and wet – the type of weather no one would want to be out in. Lucy Knight, however, was definitely a select few who would dare to face it. That, and maybe because she had promised to meet someone for dinner. She swore prettily, for she was pretty as the drunk teens called out to her in her passing flurry, and almost slipped on a patch of ice while running down the steps from the station. She was panting, cheeks flushed, when she finally slid up to her waiting company. His soft cough and the slight wince that followed made her frown. Her frown deepened as she spied him rubbing his sternum gingerly. She looked up, intending to apologise, but met an amused stare. She flushed from something that was definitely not from her rush and babbled an apology. A warm hand pulled at her own.

"It's okay, I get it. Your shift had Kerry, who made it hell, and made you stay longer than you're supposed to, and so made me wait longer that I should outside in this cold. Now, can we just go somewhere _warm_?" the childish plead – and the slightly distressing cough that seemed to rattle in the young man's chest – made Lucy pick up her pace. Jogging a little to catch up to the man's longer strides, she pressed her own warmth against his side. She smiled sweetly at him and wrapped her arm around his waist as he held her tighter to himself in turn. "Why, Lucy, I feel warmer already. Maybe we should just continue walking."

Lucy swatted at her companion playfully. "I'm freezing, John. How can you make a young lady like me walk around in the cold in just a lab coat?"

Her unspoken concern of him having waited too long out in the cold was somehow understood. He smiled fondly down at her and ushered them into the warm and cosy restaurant across from the Chicago Hospital's ambulance bay.


End file.
